


Pour One Out for the Little Guy

by clusband



Category: Hiveswap
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27516628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clusband/pseuds/clusband
Summary: Not everyone is cut out to be a brother.
Relationships: Marvus Xoloto & Karako Pierot
Comments: 9
Kudos: 88





	Pour One Out for the Little Guy

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2+3 of NaNoWriMarv. I expected this to be on the longer side (which is why I split it up), and I was right.
> 
> I really wanted to explore the side of Marvus that acts as a familial figure; IRL juggalos are all about that found family shit. Here I guess I did a mix of cool older brother and weird but fun uncle, which suits him! I have no idea how old Karako is supposed to be, and this is my first time writing a child, so I hope this reads okay. Let me know!
> 
> Thanks for reading <3

You been practicing your vocabulary.

These green beetles are  _ skittery _ . The orange ones are  _ nimble _ . And the dead ones are just dead, which suits you fine.

A pair of bright yellow shoes interrupt your sorting process. Luckily, they don't step on any of the dead ones.

"Damn, still here bud?"

A huge hand ruffles your hair between your horns, sending the world tilting wildly. That's something your jade family never really does with you that your purple fam does, the touching. You can't tell if you like it yet, though, so you grab and claw at their wrist, honking in protest.

"Nah, ah ha ha it's aight lil' man!" Once you're latched on, the figure simply lifts his arm and pulls you up, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. You grip harder; it's a long fall from here. Up here, you're face height, paint to paint. Unlike you, this guy's grown, and not he's not a runt like you. You kick at the air, not that it does much of anything. You consider grabbing one of your knives- wicked sharp, they are- but you know any brother could kill you dead, no shot. So kicking it is. "Sup, brother."

You honk with all of the indignition you can muster.

"Word," he sets you down on your feet, tapping your head. You been kicking so long, your feet feel all bubbly like soda foam. A forlorn honk escapes you all on its own as you sit to rub at them. "Aight, so, way I see it is: you got two options."

You glare up at him. He's still smiling a lazy smile.

"I could send your ass up and fucking packing on ya fuzzy lil' feets," he kicks some dirt dust all up at your feet; you think it's supposed to make you laugh. "Or I could take you for a spin, we could jam to some tunes, and I could drop you off at home."

It's been a while since you jammed to anything but the choir and Taylor Swift. Tough choice; it don't smell like rain, and Bronya always told you not to talk to strangers, but you seen this guy at service a few times. He's a brother, just like you. You finger your knives as you consider; big guys like this, they aren't usually... well, they ain't fast. And you're  _ really _ fast, you're- you're  _ expeditious _ . 

Quickly, you place the beetle husks you collected into one of the empty faygo cans at your belt. You rattle them around in there for a hot second, just 'cause you like the sound, and then your new brother is ushering you forward with his cane.

___

The two of you still have a while to walk before you get to his ride. Plenty more beetles to track; you almost have enough orange, but you'll need some red before you get back home.

"Only seen you at church once or twice," he starts. You don't even dignify this with a honk; a stag beetle catches your eye. This one's a mutant, one pincer twisted left while the other juts proudly forward. You guess if you were crafting a metaphor, you'd say something about how even the mutants find the strength to kill a motherfucker and just survive anyway (and you  _ would _ say it, even though Bronya doesn't like you utilizing the holy jargon). But you just think this guy looks like your new friend, the way his horns go every which-a-way. 

You show him with a gutsy honk. And he laughs.

"Damn, look at dat!" He takes it from you and crunches it between his teeth. "Always knew I was a tasty motherfucker, feel me? Name's Marvus, by the by."

You laugh- you knew he'd get the joke!- before shoving a nearby stag beetle grub into your mouth. It's juicy; beetle blood runs down your chin. Marvus makes a fancy hand gesture before a handkerchief appears in his hand. He wipes at your mess, and you belch at him. He laughs uproariously, and you do the same.

"Shizz, man, ain't no time to be rude at home, huh?" You honk at him. "Better get it out now, my limo's up there."

He points up the hill, towards the end of your path. Up top sits the biggest car you ever seen. Which isn't saying much, since you never seen a car before. He comes up beside you while you're busy looking. Maybe you're even gawking a lil. He nudges your shoulder, looking over and down at you with a twisted kind of smile. "Race ya?"

You're off before you can agree. You hear his whooping behind you, spurring you on, and you run harder. Before you know it, your hand is making sweaty prints against the paint of his limo. You look back just in time to see him walking real slow like- uh,  _ sauntering _ up to you.

"Winner gets tha best seat in the house," he taps the side of his limo and the door opens up for him. You scramble inside, checking everything out. "Pick a seat my man, we're off."

The car starts and music starts screaming out of the speakers. It's so loud, you have to cover your ears and shake your head to get it out. In moments, you feel the vibrations lessen, and you let a tentative hand off your ear.

"Shizz, my bad mang! I like to get it bumpin, feel me? Let's turn it down a bit." He settles you back into one of his seats and wraps a strap around your hips. "Safety first, right? Now, where's home?"

You give him your medallion, squirming against your restraints. "Jades, huh?" He lets out a low whistle before looking back up to you with a smile sharp like knives. "Someone in the caverns has been naughty." You don't know what that word means, not really, but you growl at him anyway. He laughs at your threat display. "Ah, never mind bud, I'm only joking. Let's skeet skoot!" 

The music changes to a new track, filled with drum beats and words you haven't heard before. Marvus uncaps a faygo next to you, sipping it before passing it over.

That's the rhythm you settle into. Sip, pass, change the track. There's one that stays in your ears; you tap your feet, it almost feels involuntary.

"You like that one?" he asks. You nod your head, and then keep nodding to the beat. This is how you seen sisters at the church dancing at baptism parties. You never practiced, but it feels good to let loose.

"Ayy turn up cuz!" Marvus bumps his head along with you, then he's moving his shoulders, snapping his fingers, and bumping into you. "Let's fucking go! Show me what you got!" 

You're really letting loose now. It's a little difficult against the belt securing you to the seat (and you wonder why he doesn't have to wear one), but you really feel like you're starting to get it. 

And, just like every time you start to get the hang of things, it all crashes to a halt. The limo stops, and so does the music.

Your disappointment must show on your face, or else your brother is kinder than you thought, because in the next moment, he's handing you something.

"Here, it's my mixtape. Your silly ass better learn some better moves, my man!" He closes your fingers around the black box; it's like nothing you ever seen before. Black, flat, rectangular, with two cogs in the middle. Reminds you of a mask, almost like your paint. Still, though, you don't know what to do with it. Maybe Lynera would know, she knows everything. Or Lanque, he knows the secret things. "Gonna look wack when you're older, showing up with those wiggles." He nudges you on the shoulder.

It hits you: you don't want this to be over yet! Something is shifting in the shadows of the caverns; you know a pissed Lynera when you see her.

She sees you just as you see her. "Karako!!" she calls.

Marvus is completely- he's  _ nonplussed _ beside you. Lynera storms up to you two and has her finger in his face before you have time to explain.

"You! Who are you? What are you doing with Karako?!"

"Just bringin' him home, sis. Thought he'd be safer with a fellow clown looking after him,"

"Safer? With some  _ clown _ ?" She leans in closer to him, tense.

Marvus makes a 'tch' sort of sound, his smile falling something more annoyed-ways. "Who you think's all at church service, man? Sides, how's he usually get home? Airship?"

You know Lynera better- this ain't going nowhere. You latch onto her sleeve, smiling and nodding. She backs out of Marvus's space- you could almost breathe a sigh of relief- and you point towards the back of the caverns with a honk.

"What, your room?" You honk again. "You think I'm just going to let some- some  _ stranger  _ in here? What would Bronya say?"

Well, Bronya says interacting with members of your own caste is healthy. But you just honk at her and let her make her own meaning from that.

She's still all spiky, but it's the spiky of someone pulling in their quills this time. You don't need an answer, pulling Marvus in deeper with you.

You know the caverns as well as any of the jades. Getting to your room isn't hard, but it takes some footwork. Bronya likes to keep you safe. Wanshi likes the challenge of getting to your den. And you like the quiet; it all comes together.

Marvus takes a seat on one of your cushions, admiring your drawings. You're especially proud of the one you made of you and Wanshi- you shove this one in his lap.

"You made these?" You honk. "Damn, bro, these are tight as hell." He points to Wanshi. "Who's that?"

You try to suppress a blush, but there's no point. The facepaint hides the worst of it, but Marvus is savvy. He flicks you on your ear, your ear that is no doubt flushed purple. "It's like that, huh? She tough? She kind?"

You honk. He laughs, holding his fist out to you. You bump it. "Hell yeah man. Word!"

You pull out his gift, that black rectangle. You dump out the beetles from your empty soda can. The way they all swarm around the plastic... An idea hits you.

Against the back wall of your caverns is the only secret the jades haven't cracked. You pull aside the curtain to reveal your masterpiece. Marvus turns, letting out a small breath as he looks at it. 

Your messiahs. Or, well, what you imagine they look like. You been capturing their likeness in beetles for about a sweep now. But you can't be sure he sees what you see, so you bust out the incense. Or, well, okay so maybe the jades can't get- can't  _ acquire _ incense down here, so you got a stick that you light on fire sometimes. 

"Damn, you keep the faith at home?" You honk. "Respect, bud."

With his eyes on you, you paste his piece of plastic to the wall, right in the center.


End file.
